


Bittersweet, I Could Taste In My Mouth

by sophwrites



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, finally I have delved into the world of angst!, it was inevitable really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophwrites/pseuds/sophwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'"I'm sorry," Robert says, wanting to crawl into Aaron's skin, clutch at him from the inside, wishing he had the same hold over this man that Aaron has over him.'</p><p>Robert fights with Aaron. It's one thing he can't seem to unlearn how to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet, I Could Taste In My Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> a) This is set in the not too far future, when they hopefully have their own place, and b) I honestly have no idea what this is. Title from Coldplay's, 'The Hardest Part', which I listened to whilst writing this.
> 
> Vague references to self harm and of Aaron's abuse. I apologise for any mistakes!

  
  


"Don't start again," Aaron mumbles into the cuff of his sleeve, voice low and tired.

He's lying on their sofa in a tattered jumper, one that Robert hates. It's got a well-worn hole where Aaron's thumb slots into perfectly, and Aaron's head is resting on his curled fist as he uses the telly as an excuse to tune Robert out.

"I'm sorry," Robert says, wanting to crawl into Aaron's skin, clutch at him from the inside, wishing he had the same hold over this man that Aaron has over him.

Aaron doesn't even look at him. Closes his eyes, purses his lips. "I don't want to fight," Aaron says, chewing his lip ragged.

He looks at Aaron. Deflates. "Me neither."

They stare at each other as if on opposite sides of a chasm, the abyss ever deepening, ever darkening. The wide space between them stretching, growing, aching—

Robert really doesn't want to fight.

Then Aaron tells him, "Take me to bed," and so he does.

  
  


:::

  
  


He fucks him hard, Aaron keening for it, finally having the fight they've both been itching for.

"C'mon," Aaron begs, Robert fucking into him _harder, faster_. "Show me, _fuck_ , show me you mean it."

Robert guesses this isn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with their spats, but only pushes into Aaron harder, not caring, wanting him to be able to feel this tomorrow.

At first, Robert had been afraid to do anything like this with Aaron. He wanted—of course he'd _wanted_ —but he would never have done it without Aaron's say so.

The way they touch each other, it's so similar to before, and so different. Robert feels just as alive as he ever had when he has Aaron like this, but there's something else, a fundamental shift, like the sun has risen and set and risen again without either of them noticing.

"Come _on_ ," Aaron says, shouting like he's fighting. Desperate for it but not wanting to admit that to Robert, not wanting him to know.

"God Aaron," Robert grunts from above him, feeling like he's being held down just by Aaron's eyes, pinning him to this moment. "Want ya, want ya so much, fuck, want ya more than anything—"

" _Robert_ —" Aaron gasps out like he's lacking air, fisting his hands in the pillows, making shapes that will never stay, that will get twisted away in the night.

"Yeah, yes, like that, just like that," Robert says, voice deep and guttural. "Mine, all mine," and Aaron groans at the possessive note to his voice, thrusting back hard. Robert knows Aaron hates that he loves those declarations quite so much.

"M'gonna, gonna..." Aaron says, staring at the ceiling like he's no longer inside his own body. "M'close, so close—"

"Come on, Aaron, come _on_."

Aaron's so tight and hot and _slick_. So slick and wet, Robert loves it. He practically pours lube all over Aaron, loving how messy their sex is, how dirty. Always so rough and raw and real.

One thing they did always get right, even before.

Aaron comes all over his own stomach, panting and squirming as Robert simultaneously rides out Aaron's orgasm and chases his own.

"That's it, yeah, that's it," Aaron says, knowing Robert loves it when he talks. Loves the sound of his voice.

Aaron's always telling him he talks too much for his own good. Aaron doesn't talk _enough_.

 _Please, please, yes, oh God,_ Robert thinks. He cries out and stills, holding onto Aaron's biceps in a vice grip. Opens his eyes and sees blue ones looking back at him, half lidded.

He thinks: _I love you, I love you, I love you_. He rolls next to Aaron, tiredly curling an arm around Aaron's body when it presses up against him, come and sweat and slick cooling, neither of them caring enough to do anything about it.

Robert sees the tattered jumper hanging off the foot of the bed. Hates it a little less.

  
  


:::

  
  


Liv was having a sleepover at Gabby's, and they'd gone out to dinner.

 _I want to treat you,_ he'd told Aaron, _when do we ever get to do this?_

They'd chosen a place that suited both of their tastes. Not too high brow so as to make Aaron uncomfortable, but good enough that Robert still felt like it was a treat.

Aaron had worn a new, mauve jumper. It was something Robert had never seen before, eyes raking over Aaron's frame when he'd appeared in their bedroom doorway also in his black jeans, barefoot.

"Never seen that before," Robert had said, a slow smile spreading across his face, only growing as Aaron had ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's new," he'd mumbled. "Thought you might like it."

"I do," Robert had agreed almost immediately. "So much that I kind of want to take it off you right now."

They'd laughed, managing not to halt their evening before it had even begun, reaching the restaurant and enjoying their meal.

Right up until dessert.

Their waitress had been a woman. Easy enough on the eye, but not to Robert's taste. She'd been batting her eyelashes at him all night though, watching him far too intently. Robert hadn't noticed Aaron's growing agitation, had missed the drumming of his fingers, his twitch.

It was annoying, sure. He was having dinner with his boyfriend. But still, he'd thought, it wouldn't do any harm to flirt meaninglessly with her. She might even give them money off their meal.

Aaron had stormed out before the last course had even arrived, and Robert had followed, throwing down some money on the table like he was in a rom-com, not even looking back as he chased Aaron through the double doors of the restaurant.

"Aaron!"

He'd stopped, watching Aaron stop too. Turn around to face him, hands clenched into fists by his sides.

"What's wrong? Why did you do that?"

"Why did _you?_ " Aaron had said, all anger and pinched mouth. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"What are you talking about?" Robert had asked, feeling lost.

"You. Flirting with that waitress, like I'm not your boyfriend. Like I wasn't sat _right there_."

"No, Aaron." Robert could’ve kicked himself. "I only did it cause she started it, to see if she'd give us money off. I don't fancy her. I only want you! It doesn't mean anything—"

"Doesn't _mean_ anything?" Aaron had cried. "Robert, you like women. You were married to a _woman!_ If you want one of those, well you better get packin', cause I'm not one.”

"I promise you, Aaron, the only person I want is you."

"Well then you better do one, cause I don't believe ya."

They’d stood on the pavement outside the restaurant, summer air and fading light not at all helping to ease the tension of the atmosphere.

"Aaron. I don't want anyone else, not now. Not ever." Robert had repeated, not knowing how to convince him it was true. "That marriage ended because I loved you. And I still do."

Robert had stared into Aaron's eyes; feeling like he was falling down and down and down.

Aaron had slumped, walking closer to Robert. "I hate it when other people look at ya. When you act like they can have ya... Cause they can't."

"They can't," Robert had agreed.

"I just always—" Aaron had stopped.

Robert had waited.

"Want ya, don't I?" Aaron had said, losing his fight. The casual admittance slipping out through caged lips, bared teeth. "Always flippin' want ya."

Robert wanted to make some quip, hold Aaron by the waist and say _you really know how to make a loving declaration, don't you?_ But he didn't, gripping Aaron's hand instead, knowing he meant _I want you_ and _I'm scared you'll let someone else have you. Someone that's not me._

"Let's just go home."

  
  


:::

  
  


There was still tension in the air, and Aaron had changed out of the mauve jumper, putting on his ragged black one and sitting in front of the telly.

They’d have to talk about it eventually. It and so much more, and Robert wanted to.

He just didn't know where to start.

  
  


:::

  
  


Aaron jostles him awake at four, shifting about by kicking the duvet off of their entwined bodies.

"Mhm, time?" Robert mumbles, squinting against the weak light. "S'early."

"Sleep, Robert," Aaron says softly, sounding equally as tired. "'s still four in the mornin'."

Robert simply pulls Aaron closer, nuzzles into his shoulder, adding to their too-hot warmth, and sleeps.

  
  


:::

  
  


When he wakes properly, he finds Aaron still asleep and drooling on his chest, one arm crushed under his own body and the other splayed over Robert's stomach.

Sometimes, he wishes they only existed in the early hours.

Light fights its way into the room, through the hideous net curtains that had come with the house. That neither of them had bothered to take down.

 _"They add character!"_ Robert had joked to Aaron when he'd nearly ripped them clean off their rails.

There's something dysfunctional about them, he knows. Knows that they both need to talk. To each other. More, not less. Stop bottling things up until they spill over.

But not today. Today, Robert just wants this.

He watches Aaron lie still, his torn skin like a patchwork quilt, exposed in the sunlight. There's marks, bruises, raised bumps, and Robert feels the ghost of each as keenly as if his fingertips were running over them. Aaron hates when he romanticises the scars, ghosting his lips over them and telling Aaron _you're beautiful._

He doesn't mean to, he just doesn't know how to love. Robert hurts, then he heals. Better at the former, but he's trying. Trying even to make up for the hurt that he didn't cause. Trying to make up for the hurt that he did.

He watches him and feels his heart go concave, making space for _Aaron, Aaron, Aaron._

He watches him, loves him more with each catch of Aaron’s sleeping breath.

He watches and wonders what it'll take to get him to come undone all over again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope the timeline of this makes sense, it jumps back and forth illustrated by tense, I hope that's obvious enough :-)
> 
> Full disclosure, I have never written a proper piece of smut before, in depth or otherwise, so. Sorry if it was horrible. But anyway, let me know what you thought or how I can improve?


End file.
